


More Than You Could Ever Know

by Teal_Rainbeau



Series: Klancemas 2019 Rainbeau Written [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), F/F, Keith (Voltron) is a Dork, Keith (Voltron)-centric, Klancemas 2019, Lance (Voltron) is So Done, Lance (Voltron) is a Ray of Sunshine, M/M, Mild Language, Minor Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Minor Ezor/Zethrid (Voltron), suggestive ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teal_Rainbeau/pseuds/Teal_Rainbeau
Summary: Why does he continue to subject himself after hearing that ominous seven-second jingle?Right…it’s because the idiot that he lives with wants to belt out the song karaoke style every chance he gets: in the shower, while shaking his hips and frying dinner, and while subjecting Keith to yet another torturous round of passenger karaoke.But all he wants is for Lance to stay cheerful on his way to the airport, so he forever holds his peace… for a few minutes. The volume lowers with Lance now looking at him and he wonders if the man had been studying his agitated demeanor.“Mark my words, Keith, you’re gonna hear that song one day when you’re out shopping and take it in that cold, tight embrace of yours.” He squints at him with that cocky, sideways grin that makes it hard to decide whether Keith wants to kiss him or kill him.=====(Written for the Klancemas 2019 prompt: All I Want For Christmas Is You (Day 10)If you want to participate, here is the link atMonthly Klance's Tumblr Page)
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Klancemas 2019 Rainbeau Written [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567264
Kudos: 30





	More Than You Could Ever Know

**Author's Note:**

> _Update 12-23: I changed the rating to Teen_  
>  _Update 2-12: Shrunk Keith and Lance's apartment ceiling from thirty feet to twelve (LMAO) and changed a line of Zethrid's dialogue._  
>  This was challenging to write at first because of writer's block and my willingness to do a fresh take of the prompt besides what I had in mind the first time with Lance singing around the house and Keith growing more and more annoyed :D

It was the same song every single Christmas. That stupid one with the soprano-singing female that Keith can’t quite remember the name of even though it springs up on the airwaves every hour or so.

Why does he continue to subject himself after hearing that ominous seven-second jingle?

Right…it’s because the idiot that he lives with wants to belt out the song karaoke style every chance he gets: in the shower, while shaking his hips and frying dinner, and while subjecting Keith to yet another torturous round of passenger karaoke.

But all he wants is for Lance to stay cheerful on his way to the airport, so he forever holds his peace… for a few minutes. The volume lowers with Lance now looking at him and he wonders if the man had been studying his agitated demeanor.

“Mark my words, Keith, you’re gonna hear that song one day when you’re out shopping and take it in that cold, tight embrace of yours.” He squints at him with that cocky, sideways grin that makes it hard to decide whether Keith wants to kiss him or kill him.

“Oh yeah? I could just order stuff online, from the comfort of our home…” Keith narrows his eyes, but rests that tight, angry bend of his lips. 

“Sure, man, I get you.” He gives his shoulder a playfully patronizing pat, “But song addiction happens to the best of us. How do you think I finally got used to coming home and listening to that old rock group of yours? The _Windows_ , was it?”

Keith reluctantly titters, “ _The Doors_ , Lance!”

“Okay, whatever! The windows, the walls…” Lance shrugs, provoking him to brief laughter this time, “I started digging it because the dude’s vocals are sexy and… it’s _really_ cute the way you croon under your breath.”

Keith’s cheek singe with his boyfriend’s smooth admission.

After playing instrumental holiday music for thirty more minutes on the road, they listen to Mariah Carey just _one more time_ , because at least Keith won’t have to hear it again for the three days that Lance won’t be home. The moment he pulls up to the curb for unloading passengers, Cuba suddenly seems like universes away. Yet the acute yearning in his chest prolongs itself with Lance still singing and _not_ getting out of the car.

“You’re gonna miss your flight!” he complains as the man begs him to let the last few chords of the song finish.

So with a sigh he allows Lance to warble in his jolly, flashy way with such abandon that he feels the strain of resisting the urge to strangle him sooner than later. While the lively tone of the radio jockey transitions to the next holiday top 20 hit, Lance gifts him an indulgent kiss on his lips and Keith cradles his head in his hands to anchor the sweet fatigue enveloping his system. They separate with a gentle smack and a sigh.

“Love you, baby.” Lance whispers with a whimsical wave.

Love you, too.” Keith slurs subtly with a satisfied smirk.

His boyfriend darts away with his harried form melting into the crowd, and it was such a contrast to the scene of others who appear to loiter.

Unfortunately, Keith’s job would take him thirty minutes to get there on the least busy route there. Since last month, the freeways have been unbearably congested, and in the past he has fantasized more than once about abandoning his Sentra and walking to work in spite of the traffic. This time he’s smart enough to take the streets. Tomorrow he can finally ride his motorbike again now that he wasn’t driving Lance around.

A quick turn to a soft Jazz station on Sirius was just what he needed to wipe the residue of that song from his eardrums. But just as an instrumental piano concludes softly, the song that he knows all too damn well with the sneakily mocking music box intro vibrates into his ears again.

“You’re joking, right?” he responds with an eyebrow raise and a deep-seated sigh.

His finger presses firmly into the button that switches to a talk station about winter conspiracies and the true origins of snowmen as war decoys of centuries past.

=====

Keith clocks inside Marmora’s donation bank where the holiday rush has clearly made everyone crazy. Clerks are busy with the sequence of speak, pause, write, research.

Keith’s boss, Kolivan, pulls him aside for a moment. “Good news, Axca says we can go ahead and start making drives out there. If you can go and help the girls get that shipment complete.” He gives his shoulder a weighted pat.

“Yes, sir.”

Kolivan as always been a father to him. They met when he reunited with his birth mother, Krolia, after tracking her down when he turned eighteen. Call it nepotism or whatever, but Kolivan immediately took him in as a volunteer with Krolia as his immediate supervisor.

Six years later, and Keith has proven fortitude and emotional maturity at this non-profit as coordinator. 

Ezor and Zethrid are already out on the loading dock making sure that trucks are stuffed to the max with the overwhelming array of holiday donations. Clothes, toys, food, furniture, whatever a less fortunate family or individual could use this season.

“What’s in _that_ truck?” Keith frowns after looking at the dozen or so piles still waiting for shipment.

“That’s just the furniture.” Ezor coos sardonically.

“No shit!” he responds in awe, “How many more trucks do we have on hand?”

According to her, only two large ones. Which means that Keith had better get to work and start playing Tetris in this real-world scenario. He asks for Zethrid’s muscle with the bulkier items, given that she is larger and four feet taller than Keith. Acxa and Ezor are to sort the toys by dolls, blocks, etc before putting them in black plastic bags. 

As soon as both of the trucks are finally packed with the remaining items, the four take separate parts of the county to banks and orphanages to begin deliveries. Acxa and Keith take separate trucks while Ezor and Zethrid insist on staying together, which Keith secretly can’t blame the girlfriends as long as they remain professional.

The community drive objectives last for two days and is a major success. There is an average turn-out of thousands per district per day who received more comfortable bedding and clothes, children whose smiles are a reconciliation of some sort to that little boy that Keith was as a foster child. It feels like warm embers crackling in his veins to see foster kids like him giddy with their surprises. One little boy runs up to him and wraps his tiny fleeced arms around his waist with a million thank-yous after receiving a transforming robot toy.

“You are so welcome.” He says warmly despite the immediate urge he had to ease the little child off of him with both hands.

After the boy runs away with his father, Keith comments to Acxa on how “cuddly” he was.

=====

The last day before winter vacation for the employees, Keith heads to the nearest bank to cash the donation checks. Krolia insists that he visits an associate because she is wary that there will be an error subjecting him to another two-hour visit, like last year. One check went missing, only to discover that the machine had a two week hold on that particular check marked from another state. He already hates modern banking, so that was a nightmare for everyone. 

The line is unusually quick, and he is at the window taking care of business.

While he’s waiting for the woman to process the checks, his hand absentmindedly begins a quarter tap on the counter to the bouncy song playing on the Muzak above. His head follows in a gingerly bob.

“It’s contagious, huh?” The teller says, and Keith is genuinely perplexed, “I can never seem to get that song out of my head. It, like, plays in here three times a day.”

She mentions his unconscious action and he immediately slips his hand in the comfort of his jacket pocket. It’s Mariah Carey’s not-one-hit-Christmas-wonder playing from the speakers.

For once he’s relieved his boyfriend isn’t here to rub it in.

=====

At the grocery store, the trek down the aisles of juice and two liters feels more like a glide with Lance anchored on his phone screen. To Keith, his enthusiasm, both subtle and outward, is just what he needs as the man shares his vision of what their apartment should look like for Christmas: plenty of yuletide patterns draped on furniture, with chrysanthemums and floor furnishings hanging from their twelve-foot ceiling. Keith questions whether they have a ladder high enough to decorate with something like that.

During a pregnant pause where they both rest their brains, Keith is relieved that his part of the list for the company Christmas party is almost checked off and hums a tune to a song that captures him in the moment. He stops when his boyfriend chuckles.

_“Oh my God, that’s sooo funny! I was literally about to start my holiday jam sesh with that song.”_

“Huh?”

_“You know, Mariah Carey, that everyone and their **mama’s** been listening to in the states?” _Lance’s smile tucks into a teasing smirk as his tone drawls _, “The one I just heard you humming.”_

“What, no, I would never-” Keith stammers innocently.

_“Don’t “what, no, I would never” me! That song is melting your popsicle of a heart as we speak.”_

Keith narrows his eyes and takes a page out of Lance’s book by scrambling deeper into the subject of their holiday makeover. “So…should we get poinsettias or that one flower that looks like a cotton ball?”

_“We’ll get whatever’ll make our love nest pop. Catch ya later, silly goose.”_ The connection ends.

“I wasn’t humming…” Keith mumbles under his breath and tosses some cranberry juice in the cart. Now to get some bottled waters while this damn song is stuck in his head...

=====

“Your year has been a success here, no matter what you think about your life outside of Marmora’s headquarters.” Kolivan pours himself a sparkling glass of cider. Whether it is hard, or crisp is yet to be determined.

But Keith’s mother takes the rest of the vocal reigns, “We have come to be family here. For some of you, this is your first year. Many of you are five year and over veterans who have really shown me why what we do for the community is so important,” she emphasizes while peering deep into Keith’s eyes, “I wish we could say that the homeless problem is going away, but at least we consistently rise up to alleviate it and will continue to until it is eradicated.”

The staff take a moment of silence to be thankful for their gifts, then they officially kick off the party with a toast, fresh humility and play in their hearts. 

Kolivan reluctantly poses for a dignified picture with Krolia since Ezor is so camera-happy all of a sudden. Keith finds himself in one where he is standing between the two and it definitely feels like a family portrait.

Keith must have had only one small pint of hard apple cider, but it’s enough to have him teetering a little bit when he stands. His tolerance to anything but beer is pathetic, but whatever. After witnessing Ezor and Zethrid’s “spirited” duet of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”, he realizes that Lance could show the entire room a thing or two with his honeyed, vibrant singing voice. Did Keith _really_ have to wait until tomorrow afternoon to see that man again?!

“You’re pouting.” Ezor leaned across from him with a charmed grin.

His lips unravel, but he still wears that put-out frown on his face.

“Aww… he’s missing his boyfriend. Isn’t he out of the country right now?” Zethrid sympathizes.

“Yeah. Cuba. Where his _sister_ is.” Axca says with a sharp sigh escaping her throat.

Last month Lance came back with his oldest sister, Veronica, and Acxa rode home with Keith and Lance that same week when her own car was in the shop. The first time the women met, Acxa was immediately taken with the sister who she once confided in Keith had the best smelling coconut shampoo and looked rather hot in her Ray Bans. Where she finally got the guts to ask her out was a mystery.

“Maybe these two should sing a duet about their sweethearts coming home for Christmas.” Ezor teases.

“Yeah, let’s see how well they harmonize!” her girlfriend chimed in.

The two women tug them by the arm and Keith is not fond of that at all. “I’m not going up there! I don’t _sing_.”

“And I don’t sing _well.”_ Acxa adds.

“Isn’t that a pity.” Ezor says before walking away with an arm draped around Zethrid’s waist.

As the remaining traces of day transition to early evening festivities, Keith tries a little bit harder to miss Lance less by enjoying his friends and loved ones. He grabs a beer and begins sipping while taking part in a lively conversation of guessing that Christmas Carol from the 1930s to the present. One of the youngest employees, Yorak, mistakenly believes that Rudolph’s nose is red because of eczema and not because he’s special. But the topics get sillier as more and more spirits get consumed by some who simply can’t help themselves at this point. The dinner table erupts into laughter when Kolivan recalls the first time he was asked to pose for a beefcake Santa calendar because of his lack of a “pooch”, as his stoic demeanor explicitly labels it.

People sing carols out loud, there is more laughter, and with time Keith loses enough inhibitions to where singing Christmas songs on the Karaoke stage with Axca, Ezor, and Zethrid feels so natural to him.

=====

“ _I won’t ask for much this Christmas, I won’t even wish for snow…”_

With Kosmo laying at the entrance of the kitchen, Keith continues his crooning while washing the few dishes that he let accumulate over the few days he was home alone. The music playing on the phone is high up enough where he is sure that he won’t disturb the neighbors partying in the unit a few minutes away.

As a result, he does not hear Kosmo running to the door, or see Lance opening it with wrapped presents in his hand while Kosmo pounces on him enthusiastically. The other man puts a finger to his lips after petting the Husky vigorously, then smiles warmly as he takes his phone out to videotape his singing boyfriend.

“Hey, babe.” Lance teases with a smile.

_“All I want for Christmas is…”_ Keith turns around and jumps with a wheeze at the sight of his boyfriend. A mortifying heatwave creeps to his face.

Lance immediately collapses into a chair with a increasingly breathless cackle that suspends him tearfully for a moment until he stands up and mutters “priceless”.

“You’re not supposed to be _on your way home_ until tomorrow! Where did you come from?!” Keith arches towards him in protest, clutching his chest.

The man’s tanned fingers begin moving rapidly across his screen, “Took an afternoon flight and landed here at about ten thirty. Then hitched a last-minute Uber to get home...apparently, my timing is _impeccable!”_

“Don’t you dare upload that!” Keith flusters with fists trembling, trying to reign in the vulnerability that wrecks him.

“No way, José. This belongs in my private stash, away from social media. Sooo adorable…”

“W-what private stash?! “Keith impulsively darts to him and attempts to get the phone away from him, but Lance is too fast and way too evasive, “LANCE!”

They continue a harried sequence of ring-around-the-Rosie with the living room sofa until Lance makes a laughing beeline for their bedroom, Keith still fuming in mortification.

“I mean it. Whatever happens in this apartment _stays_ in this apartment.” Lance’s eyes are genuinely soft to the point that it disarms Keith’s blaring brain alarm to a halt.

“I hate you so much.” He crosses his arms while traces of red remain on his cheeks.

“So…do I deserve a welcome home kiss, or…” Lance cups his chin as if trying to cast a spell on him. Why is it always so hard to stay mad at this guy?

Keith sighs as he leans into the kiss, hands resting on Lance’s waist until one of them slips to the man’s jeans pocket.

“Keith!” Lance whines after breaking the kiss, “That’s not fair!”

But Keith arches an eyebrow with a half-smirk and slides the stolen phone in his own pants pocket. He lowers his voice a couple of octaves in gentle volume.

“Welcome home. If you want it, you’ll have to take it.”

Lance blushes and chuckles maniacally in the face of the challenge.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank's for reading ♡  
> I hope you enjoy your holidays no matter what time you're reading this.


End file.
